


absence makes the heart

by flustereddarcy



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Local Noble Gets Uppity and Regrets It Immediately, Post-Canon, also Nadia remembers that her sisters are Clutch(TM), also chandra is useful, and don't forget ya'll that Julian is a Doctor, but the fluff don't come till later ya'll sorry, clearly i enjoy seeing lovers in pain, post-canon content, post-game content, the MC gets kidnapped and Nadia is NOT happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 15:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17707127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flustereddarcy/pseuds/flustereddarcy
Summary: All things considered, Zara realized that she was taking being kidnapped quite well.Nadia, however, is taking it far worse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> based on this https://nanithefxck.tumblr.com/post/182538483704/main-3-reacting-to-their-so-or-apprentice-getting

_Zara_

It was a warm Tuesday evening when Zara Petrav, for the first time in, well, _years_ really, felt unsafe walking home. Ever since she’d moved to Vesuvia way back in her teens, she’d carried a knife on her person for safety. A friend of her Aunt Vedra’s had taught her how to fight with a knife and more recently she’d trained in unarmed combat and sabres with Nadia, so Zara knew she wouldn’t be helpless if anyone popped out of the darkness to try and hurt her. She also knew a spell that could gather water and form it into ice, and if her would-be assaulter from ten years ago knew damn well, an sharp icicle to the face wasn’t easy to bounce back from.

But tonight was different.

The streets around her felt meaner, felt _darker_ . Buildings that she was intimately familiar with--the Valfain bunkhouse, Atagi’s clothing shop, Tamar and Luca’s apothecary shop--loomed above her, almost yawning, and the stars were muted in the blue-black sky. Zara sighed and shook her head, admonishing herself. _You’re twenty-eight years old, Zara. No grown woman should be scared of a street she knows_ , she thought. But she picked up her pace nonetheless, tugging her sweater-y shawl a bit closer around her shoulders.

A gentle, warm breeze whistled along the brick and across the cobblestones, carrying the smells of the market as the last vendors closed down for the night. Zara felt her stomach grumble--the sound was angry and loud, and she could just imagine Nadia’s expression the next day, reeking of self-satisfaction: _You should’ve eaten before you left last night, my love_.

Zara had barely put a single foot on the stairs that led to her street when she heard a shuffling behind her. Her heart flew into her throat and started beating far too fast; she tugged out her dagger and shifted her satchel out of her way, whipping around.

“Show yourself!” she snapped. “If your intentions aren’t nefarious, you can walk the streets like everyone else.” Perhaps a year and a half ago she might been more nervous, more afraid, but she wasn’t the old Zara--she’d dallied with the Devil, come back from the Arcana’s realms, and helped bring patients back from the brink of death. It would take more than a specter in the night to scare her.

It took a moment, but a lean, scraggly figure appeared from one of the alleyways, eyes bright and sunk deep into underfed cheekbones. “Didn’t mean t-t-to scare you, ma’am. Do you have a-a-a coin to spare? Anything at all?” they asked, their long hair falling across their face.

Zara sighed, looking around--but nothing, no one. The street was still empty. The beggar before her had taken a few steps forward but still kept their distance, clearly terrified and exhausted, and Zara resigned herself to the fact that she was too nice.

She reached down to rummage into her bag, lowering her blade a bit but still keeping a firm grip on it. “I might. Just give me a second to check, and then I’ll be on my way--”

A painful, crack-like _thump_ made Zara’s teeth shake and she fell to her knees, crying out in surprise. The impact threw her dagger from her hands. She scrambled forward to grasp it, the jeweled hilt glittering in the lamplight, but a large, dirty boot kicked it out of the way. A hand snatched up her hair to make her face visible and she hissed in pain. She heard a set of half-bare feet patter away into the dark to escape and she cursed herself--falling for a sad face, that _would_ be how she’d get attacked.

A masked man stared at her, pale eyes glinting. “Bind her. Hurry up.”

Zara tried to lash out, thrashing, and opened her mouth to yell--but a hand cracked across her face, and she was so surprised that all she could do was widen her eyes. She tasted blood in her mouth, but couldn’t spit or scream as gloved hand pressed against her mouth. The grip on her hair didn’t relent and her hands were wrenched behind her and bound there tightly, making her let out a muffled cry of pain.

The laugh above her from the man with the pale eyes was low and utterly sinister. “Oh, the countess will sell her fucking _castle_ to get you back, magician.”

A shuffling of fabric, and then a hood was dropped onto Zara’s head.

 

* * *

 

 

_Nadia_

Nadia felt just a bit let down. She knew that Zara wouldn’t be at the castle during the morning--the first day of the month was always busiest at the shop, with people wanting tarot readings or magic lessons or otherwise happy portents to start off their month, so Zara typically spent the night there to get ready. Nevertheless, Nadia always enjoyed meals with Zara, loved watching her green eyes twinkle with every subtle joke and ferreting away far more time than they intended doing nothing more than talking. While Nadia ate breakfast she consulted the morning’s itinerary, Portia gently scratching Melchior’s head and nibbling on a cinnamon roll across the table from her.

“Is the day’s schedule that interesting, my lady?” Portia joked, and Nadia rolled her eyes fondly.

“Oh, it’s absolutely riveting,” she replied, deadpan. She pushed the pages aside and speared a piece of fruit with her fork. “I’m just a bit distracted this morning. There’s much to do, and I’m trying to regain my focus.”

Portia’s expression changed ever so slightly, and Nadia was abruptly reminded that, for all her open loquaciousness, the handmaiden was just as good at subtlety when the situation called for it. “Zara didn’t stay in your quarters last night, did she? I might have missed her.”

Nadia shook her head. “No, today is quite the busy day at the shop and she wanted to be there early in the morning to help Asra,” she explained, then bit into her pineapple slice. “She insisted on walking herself here for lunch this afternoon, however, so we should still expect her then.”

“I figured as much--Zee told me that when I last saw her yesterday. Shall I take your plate, milady?” Portia asked as she stood up, dusting any crumbs off her tunic.

“Are you sure you’re finished eating, Portia? You might be working right now but you still need a full breakfast,” Nadia said, regarding her friend carefully.

Portia waved a hand. “Oh, I’m good, don’t worry. You don’t need to spoil me any more than you already have, milady.” She smiled in that ever-so-Portia way that always made Nadia worry just a little less before gathering up what plates she could. “Would you rather me tell Valerius to meet you in here?”

Nadia shook her head. “No, it’s alright. I’m nearly done. But thank you.”

“Alrighty, no problem. I’ll leave ya to it, then.” Portia bustled out with her usual degree of peppiness and Nadia sighed, sitting back in her chair and regarding her mostly-empty plate. After a moment, she stood up from the table and exhaled an even breath-- _Time to get on with the day_.

 

* * *

 

 

_Zara_

Her head _ached_. Her head twinged and ached in a way that it hadn’t since she’d been trying to conjure up her pre-Plague memories, and the light that pierced her eyes when she opened them didn’t help at all. She hissed in distaste at the light that shafted in from above and tried to purse or tighten her lips, but the gag she wore stopped her from doing so. Her hands were still bound, but now with less abrasive rope and tied in front of her instead of behind her.

Squinting, Zara looked around at the room she was in. It was small, and clearly a cellar or basement of some kind--there was enough room to stand and probably walk around a bit and there were a number of barrels and sacks surrounding her, one of which she was propped up against. Across the room from her, a weathered set of stairs led up to what she presumed was a trapdoor.

The floor beneath her was made of packed dirt and her eyes narrowed--where _was_ she? Where had her attackers taken her? She had to still be in Vesuvia; she couldn’t imagine having been unconscious for as long as it would take to remove her from the city. But she was somewhere with a functioning building, seeing as there was dirt under her, storage around her, and a creaking wood floor above her. Perhaps she was still in the city? There was so little in the forests besides Muriel’s hut that it was unlikely they’d taken her into anywhere that wasn’t metropolitan. The only sounds she could hear above her were boots tramping across the floor and muted chatter, and she didn’t have enough magical energy yet to do a sweep of the area.

Zara closed her eyes, thinking back to how she’d been attacked. It had been late and in a part of town that was just the slightest bit sketchy, but the attack itself had been fast and hard. The light that barely illuminated the room was bright and steady, meaning that it had to be morning at least, but not much later. A part of Zara’s heart twinged as she thought of leaving Nadia alone for the day--they’d had lunch planned, a break from their responsibilities spent in the garden, but now that obviously wasn’t going to happen. And Asra too; she was leaving him to tend to the shop alone, which made her feel even worse.

But before she could spiral too deeply into some abyss of guilt and fear, the trapdoor creaked open, so sudden that it made Zara jump. A tall man that she had a feeling was her primary assailant descended the stairs, holding a jug in one hand and a small plate in the other. She didn’t even blink as he came towards her, wanting to seem and feel as alert as possible.

“I bet you’re damn parched, huh?” he said, chuckling a bit. The lower half of his face was hidden by a short bushy beard and he wore fine but not ostentatious clothes, dyed in colors that only nobles could afford. He put down the plate and jug and leaned down to tug off her gag, frowning at its noticeable dampness. Zara went completely still as he held the jug to her dry lips, but when he tipped it up she had no choice but to drink.

Water had never tasted so good.

The man handed her some bread and she ate it cautiously, hoping that her hunger wasn’t being betrayed by her motions. He looked on for a moment before speaking again.

“Zara Petrav, magician extraordinaire, real deal fortune-teller, vanquisher of ghostly goat rulers, and Countess Nadia’s much-adored pet,” he said, smiling at her with no real kindness.

Zara arched an eyebrow. “Who’s to say she’s not mine?” she retorted, and took some solace in how he blinked a bit in surprise. “Now, who are you again? I like to have some understanding of the strange men who kidnap me.”

Seeing as she’d finished the bread, he handed her a strip of salted meat and some cheese, then stood up and bowed. “My name is Arik Balem, and--”

“Oh shit, _you’re_ Lord Balem? I remember you now! The uppity noble from Atapra that Nadia had to exorcise from negotiations this past winter?” Zara asked, and let out a hiss of pain as his hand darted down to grip her chin, wrenching her into place.

His voice was venomous. “ _Uppity noble_ ? Oh, I’m far more than that. Now that I have _you_ , I’ll be the strongest, most powerful person in Atapra, because I’ll have Vesuvia in the palm of my hand.”

Zara hoped that her gaze was as icy and disdainful as she felt. “You think this shit will work? Do you _really_? Do you know who I am? Do you know what I’m capable of?” she hissed, and let just a bit of magic flow through her skin; the water had rejuvenated her and she let her cheeks grow icy cold, cold enough to cause frostbite in anyone touching her. The iciness was so sudden that von Baez snatched his hand away, cursing in rage. He turned his eyes to her and he burned with fury--he looked like he wanted to hit her.

“You are lucky that you're worth most to me unharmed and unmarked--but pull any shit like that again and we’ll see how much the Countess will pay for you in parts.”

Something deep in Zara’s gut clenched with fear but she refused to show it. “Good luck doing any of that before she kills you.”

Arik picked up the pitcher and plate before turning away. “Oh, your lover will empty every coffer she has before she gets the chance,” he said, and climbed back up the stairs before closing the trapdoor with a slam, leaving Zara alone.

 

* * *

 

 

_Nadia_

Against her better judgment, Nadia was beginning to worry. It wasn’t as though she and Zara were codependent; far from it, in fact. But seeing Zara in passing, engaged in friendly-yet-furious debate with the city planner or communing with the visitors Nadia received during the weekly audience, always brightened an otherwise stressful day.

And it wasn’t as though Nadia had as much time to focus on Zara’s absence in the first place. Between meetings with Valerius to discuss the renovations to the Coliseum, talking with the members of the education board, and entertaining Nazali and Natiqa, it was a wonder Nadia still had energy to think about it--but then again, she always had energy for Zara.

It wasn’t until almost dinnertime--with herself and her sisters--that Nadia truly let herself worry. Portia was just finishing with her hair when Nadia broke the proverbial ice.

“Portia, my dear, have you seen Zara at all today? We were both quite short on time for most of the afternoon, so I presume I may have missed her,” she asked, and focused as subtly as she could on Portia’s reflection in the mirror--she had a tendency to give things away.

The redhead paused for the briefest of moments, frowning a bit. “I haven’t, actually. It’s definitely unlike her not to send word, but I figured she was just busy working. Would you like me to ask around?”

Nadia nodded. “That would be very helpful, Portia, thank you. And particularly send word to Asra and Julian--if there’s anyone that might have spotted her, it’s likely them.” She was about to stand when a fluttering of wings interrupted her words, and both of them turned to see Chandra perched on the windowsill, her pale-feathered face luminous. She tapped at the window with her beak and Portia quickly let her in.

“I think she heard us,” she said, and let Chandra hop from the sill to her arm to Nadia’s.

Nadia regarded her companion, her lips tightening. “You most definitely did, didn’t you?” she mused, and a comforting _coo_ was Chandra’s response. “Survey the palace grounds, if you please. It’s not like my love to hide, but I don’t want to leave any stone unturned.”

Another quick, purring _coo_ and Chandra flew back out the window, her feathers silent on the wind. Portia wrenched the window closed, rolling her eyes. “Ugh, gotta get that damn thing fixed. . . Shall we, milady? There’s no sense waiting for news in here. I’m sure Zara’s fine, she’d hate for you to worry.”

“Oh, I know she would. As would my sisters. They’d dote and start telling the servants what to do to help and frankly I don’t need that,” Nadia replied, sighing. She turned to Portia and barely had to speak before the other woman was giving her an encouraging smile.

“You look lovely, milady.”

“Thank you, Portia. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to entertain my sisters,” Nadia replied and strode out the bedroom door in a swirl of fabric.

 

It was halfway through the main course that Chandra returned. Nadia was in the midst of a spirited debate with Natiqa about the merits of placing the Embassy on the east side of the castle versus the west, with Nazali occasionally offering some advice in favor of one or the other. After Natiqa made a particularly solvent point--which Nadia was inwardly dreading having to rebuke--Nazali thoughtfully speared a roasted potato and spoke up.

“My dear sister, can I ask where Zara is? I remember you saying that she’d be around during the afternoon,” they asked, and exchanged a glance with Natiqa.

Nadia nearly choked on her wine, and paused for a moment to collect herself. “She’s. . . Well, actually, sisters. . .I’m not sure where she is. We both had very busy days, certainly, but I’ve not seen her all day, and neither has Portia.”

Natiqa’s bright eyebrows twitched upward for a brief moment. “You look worried, Nadi,” she said. “Have you sent any guards out looking for her?”

“No, not yet.”

Nazali nodded. “You didn’t want to make a scene or draw attention--that’s perfectly reasonable. I--” They were about to say something more when the door of the dining room swung open; Nadia barely had time to process Portia’s presence when a set of pale white wings fluttered in ahead of her.

“Chandra--”

The owl landed on Nadia’s outstretched arm and cooed a bit, and then Nadia felt her stomach drop as a feeling of dread flooded her mind. She realized that she must’ve gone visibly pale, because Nazali spoke up.

“Zara’s not on the grounds, is she?” they asked, folding the napkin in their lap.

Nadia shook her head. “No. Chandra hasn’t seen her.” She turned to Portia. “Have you asked--”

“Asked the guards? Yes, milady, I did. . .” Portia’s voice trailed off and she glanced down. “They haven’t seen her since she left for the shop last night. Julian hasn’t answered yet--I think the clinic is busy--but Asra said the same. He hasn’t seen her since yesterday afternoon.”

A feeling that Nadia could only compare to ice crept across her skin. She’d been staving off her worry but now it was upon her in full force, and Nazali and Natiqa immediately responded in kind.

“What would you like us to do, Nadia? We’re here to help,” Natiqa said, already standing up from the table.

“I can personally go find Julian. I know that Zara’s been particularly busy working with him, he may know what’s kept her from the castle,” Nazali offered.

Nadia couldn’t shake the sensation of dread from her stomach, stuck to her skin like a cobweb and threatening to make her choke. Luckily she didn’t have to answer either of her sisters’ suggestions, as another interruption came in through the dining room door. A messenger, garbed in bright Vesuvian purple, pushed past Portia, holding an envelope with a seal Nadia didn’t immediately recognize.

“Milady, a missive for you. It’s from a minor house in Atapra,” they said, and handed off the letter before quickly leaving the room.

With a forced degree of slowness, Nadia tore open the seal and read the letter aloud, hoping that her voice didn’t shake.

_To the esteemed Countess Nadia Satrinava of Vesuvia,_

 

_As you’ve likely guessed by now, your dear charlatan Lady Zara is missing. Judging by my possession of her and your possession of a city-state with considerable wealth in numerous avenues, I do believe we can strike a deal._

_If you want her back unharmed, meet me and my two guards at the clearing just outside of the Dark Forest tomorrow at precisely noon with two retainers of your own. Come with either a ransom of 21000 gold or a written trade agreement for myself to. . .review._

_Don’t go looking for her before that. You won’t find her--and if you do, she won’t be the magician you remember._

 

_Lord Arik Balem of Atapra_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: scene of sexual harassment that might trigger some, but it's not violent.

_Zara_

All things considered, Zara realized that she was taking being kidnapped quite well. When she and Nadia had made things “official” after the Lucio fiasco had blown over--which they’d only done to prevent any suitors from coming for _either_ of them, really--Nadia had very seriously told her that her life would change, drastically. As the consort to the Countess of Vesuvia, Zara would be a target of all kinds of ne’er-do-wells ranging from incompetent to absolutely nightmarish. And seeing as she had no idea where on the spectrum her assailants fell, she made a conscious decision to keep calm.

Well, calm for _herself_ anyway. All she could think about, besides how thirsty she was, was that Nadia must have been terribly, terribly worried. . .or, that she would be soon, anyway.

Zara knew that, even in the best case scenario, her life wasn’t the safest, even after Lucio had been taken care of. She still felt an irresistible calling to medicine, albeit in a less gory capacity than Julian’s inclinations--she preferred using a mix of magic and herbs and scientific knowledge, and her passion for it hadn’t gone away. She spent half her time surrounded by people in varying degrees of infirmity, many of whom were contagious, and while Nadia loved and respected her desire to help, she’d made no secret of the fact that she didn’t like the danger present in her partner’s work.

But taking care of cases of the rattles or reading someone’s fortune at their bedside was positively pedestrian compared to the danger Zara knew she was in now. She’d begun counting the planks above her in myriad ways to keep her mind occupied when the trapdoor swung open yet again, and this time it was someone new: a tall woman with deep red hair whose musculature reminded her of Nahara if Nahara only practiced her fighting skills on unwilling targets. Bright eyes slashed with dramatic eyeliner looked at Zara with contempt.

“Get up, magician, we’re moving.” She roughly pulled Zara up and Zara grunted in pain, her legs sore from having been sitting for so long. The woman dragged her along and up the stairs into piercing light from the setting sun, making Zara close her eyes in response. She kept her eyes closed and tried to pull away with a muffled grunt, angry at being manhandled. In response, the woman’s grip tightened so much that Zara knew she’d have bruises, so she decided to stay still instead. No need to incur more pain, even if she did despise the way the woman smugly muttered, “ _That’s what I thought, charlatan_.”

Through her half-open eyes still adjusting to the light, she saw Lord Balem stride towards her. He reached forward to remove her. “To ensure that the Countess and her guards can’t find you, we need to move to a different location. I hope you’re alright with being blindfolded.”

Zara glanced around at her new surroundings, seeing a shabby and dusty cabin that had presumably been abandoned for some time, other than the current occupants who’d been guarding her for the past day or so. “I’d give you an answer but I’m not sure it’ll matter much, Arik,” she mumbled, and smirked seeing how he twitched at the use of his first name rather than his title.

He sneered at her in a way she’d seen too many times in the past; it was the toxic, cold taunting of a man who used his nobility as a weapon to smite the poor rather than a tool to help them. “You would be right about that. Tera, wrap her up nicely for me, would you?”

Zara fought the urge to sigh in annoyance as Tera the guard replaced the gag and pulled yet another blindfold on her head. Before the gag met her teeth, Zara managed to say, “Nadia is going to kill you for this, you know that, right?”

“Oh, I’d love for her to try,” Lord Balem murmured.

 

* * *

 

 

_Nadia_

As if a great wave was coursing through the palace, the various servants and handmaidens and guards very nearly scurried out of Countess Nadia’s way as she strode down the hallways, her presence a pillar of rage. Word had traveled aggravatingly quickly of Zara’s kidnapping, and Nadia had immediately sent Portia out with strict instructions to the rest of the staff to keep all information within the palace walls, lest they risk punishment.

The same pixie-haired courier who had brought the missive had been sent out by Nadia to find the captain of the city guard, a dark-skinned man with an admirable beard named Rahmad. Nazali had gone off to find Julian while Natiqa stayed with Nadia, and almost without having to tell her, Chandra had flown across the city to get Asra--Nadia desperately needed not only his counsel, but also the counsel of his intuitive deck of cards.

The letter from Lord Balem was clenched in Nadia’s hand as she and Natiqa strode into one of the palace’s main meeting rooms, outfitted with high windows and lavish curtains, ornate sconces hanging on the walls and flickering with candlelight. A large circular table meant to seat diplomats was in the middle, and a servant pulled out Nadia’s chair for her; she barely gave a quick nod in thanks before she was unfurling the letter. She positioned it so that Natiqa could read it too, and she did, the elder sister began biting the inside of her lip ever so slightly--a telltale sign of her seriousness.

“You’ve met with this Balem before, have you not?” Natiqa asked, her voice steady.

Nadia nodded. “I have, though our interaction was brief at best.” Her lip curled with distaste. “He struck me as a bitter man, constantly reaching beyond himself with no real means to do so. I suppose this. . .act was the natural conclusion of such an attitude.”

“Atapra does lack for some. . .creature comforts, so I can understand the man’s rationale for wanting to take action against Vesuvia. But something so drastic? It’s odd, to say the least.” Natiqa was intently re-reading the letter when the door to the meeting room swung open to reveal the palace librarian and another servant, both of whom were carrying books and scrolls and ledgers in their arms.

“Here’s all the information we could find on Atapra in the palace library, milady,” the librarian said, pushing up his spectacles as she spoke.

Nadia swiftly stood and strode over to them, helping with their cargo to make sure he didn’t drop any. “Thank you, Caius, and you as well, Luiza. We’ll take it from here.”

Both of them bowed. “You’re welcome, Countess. I’ll have Luiza do another sweep of the selection just to be sure--if we find anything more, we’ll bring it straight to you, Lady Natiqa.”

Natiqa nodded graciously and both librarian and assistant took their leave, and then Nadia and Natiqa started to read about the nation that had kidnapped the Countess’ wife.

 

At perhaps eight in the evening--or perhaps nine or maybe even ten, Nadia couldn’t be bothered to keep track--Asra swung through the door in his traveling cloak, his satchel hanging from his shoulder and Faust curled nervously about his arm.

“I came as fast as I could, Nadia,” he said, sliding into the chair next to her. He gave Natiqa a quick nod of greeting before pulling out his cards.

“I suppose it’s serendipitous that you have the deck and not Zara,” Nadia murmured, putting down the history tome she’d been leafing through.

Asra smiled humorlessly. “Yeah, well, the cards have always looked out for her. I just hope they keep doing it.” He motioned for Natiqa to join them at the table. “Would you come over here, Your Highness? I could use as much energy as possible for this.”

“Of course, no problem.” Natiqa dusted off her trousers and took a seat on Asra’s other side. She gave Nadia’s hand a quick squeeze as Asra spread his cards out in a neat, perfect fan on the table. Faust slipped across the table from his sleeve and flickered her forked tongue at Nadia, radiating concern; the countess stroked her head absently.

“Shall I choose?” she asked, catching Asra’s eyes.

He nodded. “Go ahead. Whichever one calls to you.”

Nadia let her hand float over the cards, closing her eyes. The magic of the deck hummed under her fingers, and she felt Asra and Natiqa’s energies shifting along with hers. Without thinking, she pulled a card out from the pile, and Asra turned it over. The kind, immovable face of the lion looked back at them.

“Strength. . .” Asra murmured, and his eyebrows twitched a bit in skepticism. “Reversed. She’s not saying much, but she _is_ telling you to remain strong, and to remain confident. It’s not an ill portent, for you _or_ her. So. . .the cards say that Zara is safe, Nadia. But other than that, they’re silent.” Asra opened his lavender eyes and regarded the countess sitting across from him, his expression almost painfully sympathetic.

At hearing his words, Nadia felt a tiny sliver of her unease leave her body, but not much else--she still felt full of anger and full of _fear_ , both of which she had gladly left behind her after their dealings with the Devil and Lucio. But now, at the thought of Zara in the cruel hands of some rival diplomat, her safety held above Nadia’s head like a carrot on a stick, she felt like she could tear the city apart with her bare hands.

She took a deep breath in and let it out steadily. “Thank you, my friend. I know that these circumstances are less than ideal for a reading--”

Asra shook his head, shuffling his cards back into the deck. “Nonsense, Nadi, don’t even start. I would give anything to find Zara, wherever she is,” he replied. “I only hope that this Lord Balem character intends to keep his promise.”

Natiqa spoke from the cushion she was sitting on near the wall, surrounded by books and files on Atapra and its nobility. “Oh, he most likely does--he doesn’t want Vesuvia attacking him for that kind of crime. Atapra is known for military, but they just repelled a significant invasion from Karnassos and I doubt he wants more soldiers lost,” she replied, and her sapphire eyes lit on Nadia. “Not to mention his threat was specific to _you_.”

Nadia felt like she could light the room on fire with her rage. “I know that Lord Balem is taunting me, Natiqa,” she snapped, but she immediately regretted her tone. “I apologize--that was uncalled for I’m just. . .I’m just _angry_. I’m angry that Lord Balem dared to do this and I’m angry that I can’t do a variety of terrible things to him in return,” she hissed. She looked up when the door opened again, a servant holding it open for a tall man with a shaved head, a full beard, and an ear lined with piercings. He wore gilded but not gaudy armor limned with purple and bowed to the countess.

“Milady, I apologize for any tardiness,” Captain Rahmad said, his helmet tucked under his arm. “I’m only sorry that I don’t have better news--Lady Zara has not been seen anywhere on the palace grounds since yesterday after dinner.”

After years of ruling Nadia was practiced at hiding her feelings: smile politely, nod gratefully, express thanks, give an order to follow up. But clearly something on her face wasn’t agreeing with the facade she’d meant to project, because Natiqa looked at her in concern.

“Dia, what is it? I know how you look when you’re thinking,” she asked.

Nadia looked up at Captain Rahmad, and the man stiffened in what may have been fear. Her voice felt like venom coming out of her mouth. “I have an idea, Captain, of how to get my wife back safely and teach Lord Balem a lesson. But. . . I have a feeling you may object to exactly _how_ I wanted to teach it.”  

 

* * *

 

 

_Zara_

Zara’s throat was dry, as parched as the wind-swept plains of Nopal--but she refused to beg for water. Besides the light bruises on her from having been manhandled, she was otherwise physically unharmed. But she was tired from stress, sore from having been on her knees or ass on hard floors, and hungry and thirsty from being fed only enough to keep her alive. Her lips were cracked and even if they weren’t too dry to use, the gag was keeping her from whispering any spells or sending out pleas to her patron for help.

But, then again, she shouldn’t have to _do_ that. She was Zara Petrav, consort to the Countess of Vesuvia, royal doctor, and instigator of the defeat of the Devil himself--the only help she needed was her own.

Right?

If Zara knew her wife at all, she was throwing orders and drafting plans left and right, and instituting protocols to prevent Zara from being any less missing than she already was. The missing person protocol in Vesuvia stated that the city-state be placed on lock down until the problem was either resolved or until a suitable degree of control had been reasserted. No ships left the harbor, all shipments were inspected, all outgoing carts were reviewed at impromptu checkpoints--the protocol had been initiated by Lucio back when he was ruling, and while it was born of paranoia, Nadia had grudgingly noted its efficiency.

She sighed, swallowing past sandpaper. Lord Balem and his guard Tera had moved her elsewhere, on what she knew was a horse; no carriage though, which was unfortunately smarter than Zara had anticipated. A carriage was big and obvious, and just a few horses would attract far less scrutiny. She was again bound hand, mouth, and foot and being kept in yet another wooden dungeon, though this time it was a house proper and not a basement. She’d carefully scooted around the room she was in and found that it was small, perhaps twice the size of the storage closet back at the magic shop.

Judging by the shifting sunlight above her, it had been about three hours since they’d arrived, but beyond that she knew precious little about what to expect or what was happening. Balem, Tera, and another two people working with them were very diligent about not speaking at full volume anywhere near her door, ensuring that she stayed in the dark. She was fed twice; the first time, a man whose voice she didn’t recognize came in to undo her gag and give her lean food and a bit of water. The moment she felt a hand curve up her stomach, its intent clear and accompanied by a lustful hum in the back of his throat, she thrashed and cursed, spitting out the water he’d given her.

“You fucking _scum_ , don’t you touch me! Is this how you treat women or am I just fucking _special_ ?” Zara snarled, and wished that she had the energy to cast a shield spell around herself and wished she wasn’t still covered by the blindfold and wished that she could _hurt_ him.

“I’ll do what I want, magician! The man’s hand shot out to grip her neck in anger and she took in a quick breath and held it, eyes wide; the door swung open and Lord Balem’s voice boomed.

“If you can’t leave her the hell alone, Garven, then you’re staying _outside_ ,” he snapped. “I said that the consort is to stay untouched and unharmed. Get out.”

A scrambling of boots, a body whacking clumsily against the doorframe, and then she had a feeling that the only person standing in front of her was Lord Balem. He handed her some bread and she took it in her bound hands; her heart was thumping and she couldn’t shake the feeling of Garven’s calloused hand on her skin.

“I apologize for Garven. He won’t be going near you again.”

Zara smiled darkly, munching down the dry bread. “I’d thank you, but you’re still using me to blackmail my wife, so. . .”

Lord Balem patted her head and Zara wished she could hurt him, too. “Don’t worry, we’re meeting your precious Countess tomorrow. And we’ll give you some blankets for the night--I’m not _that_ cruel.”

Zara gave a non-committal hum that she hoped conveyed her sarcasm and begrudgingly opened her mouth so she could drink the water he offered. She craned her neck down to wipe her chin on her messy shirt. “Before you go. . .are you willing to tell me the time?” she asked, her voice rasping.

There was a pause, then, “Well, I suppose there’s no harm. It’s six thirty. I’d get some sleep if I were you, Lady Zara. Don’t want you looking haggard for the Countess.” The floor creaked as Lord Balem stood up and then the door swung closed and clicked, leaving Zara with only the light from the small window for company, turning red through her blindfold as the sun began to set.

 _Six thirty, Zara. Just get through to the morning without losing your damn mind._ She closed her eyes behind the blindfold and tilted her head back. _It’s far from the hardest thing you’ve done_.

 

* * *

 

 

_Nadia_

The group arranged at the table before her was a motley assortment: Portia, wringing her hands and her mind clearly spinning; Natiqa, her hands folded before her and her eyes bright; Nazali, leaning back in their chair almost lazily but watching Nadia carefully; Julian, drumming his fingers and running a hand through his hair; Asra, looking off into space as if he and Faust could communicate with Zara that way; and Captain Rahmad, seated near Nadia and his lips pressed into a tight line.

“So, if I might, erm. . .reiterate, milady. You would like to be present at the drop yourself, rather than a retainer, and while you and your guard attendant travel to the rendezvous point, a second group of select soldiers will sabotage Lord Balem’s party in order to isolate him and leave him alone?” he asked, and Nadia nodded.

“Yes, precisely. I can’t imagine that Balem won’t expect that, but that’s why we do it well. And no, you can’t convince me to allow a retainer to do the drop,” Nadia replied, her voice even. Or at least she _hoped_ it sounded even--every minute not knowing where Zara was had her more and more stressed, so it probably just sounded cold and strained.

Rahmad glanced at Nazali and Natiqa, clearly hoping for some sort of support; Nazali propped their head up on one of their arms. “I think it’s a good plan, as long as we can pull it off. We’ll have to be very careful.”

Natiqa nodded. “Yeah, they’re right. Balem doesn’t strike me as a man who likes war crimes, but hurting Zara would be an. . incentive for you.”

The thought made Nadia’s blood run cold. “Then that’s why we’ll do it right.”

Portia caught Nadia’s gaze. “Milady, I know you’re more than capable, but are you sure that’s safe? This Lord Balem guy might want to hurt you too,” Portia said, her worry clear in her voice.

If the circumstances had been a bit less dire-- _if anyone else had been taken_ , she was loath to think--Nadia perhaps might have smiled at the implication, at the idea that some random noble from another city could possible best her or her wife. Instead she sat back in her chair, bringing her hands together and imagining how it would feel to watch Lord Balem's face as his plans fell to pieces. “Oh, he’s _welcome_ to try."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rendezvous is set and the plan is in motion, but all either of them can think about is that all this is taking _far too long._  
>  tw: short scene of physical abuse

_ Zara _

Rather than sunlight or a sudden jolt of motion or a particularly loud noise, Zara woke up from her slumber because of a nightmare.

She gasped herself awake, chest heaving with her terror as it fled her body in trembles and shakes. The dream itself was only in her mind in pieces now: Balem seated like some perverse sort of king, her before him in something she’d never wear outside of her and Nadia’s bedroom; candles lit and the room stinking of wax; broad hands belonging to more than one person tugging at her, laughter covering up her protests. 

She’d never felt so trapped, and it hadn’t even been real.

Zara rolled over on the small bedroll she’d been given and grimaced in pain, her head again aching, but this time from sleeping on the floor. She turned over carefully but then gasped in surprise at seeing Lord Balem sitting in a chair at the opposite end of the small room. 

“Good, you’re finally awake. For a moment I thought that Tera might’ve gotten rough with you at some point, knocked you out or killed you. And that would be simply  _ terrible _ .” He stood up, towering over her due to both his height and the fact that she was still lying down; Zara quickly sat up but didn’t take her eyes off him, hoping she could feel the rage in her glare. 

Balem dropped into a crouch, his expression unbearably smug. “Hm. . .I wonder, magician, why didn’t you try to escape?” he asked, reaching out a hand to grasp her chin like he did the day she nearly froze his fingers off. “I’m almost disappointed that you didn’t. They say you’re hard to beat and yet here you are.”

Zara tried to summon heat this time, but cold had always come easier to her, and neither was within her grasp with how tired she felt. So she settled for staring him down, hoping that her defiance would, if not frighten him, remind him that she was no damsel. “Maybe I’m planning ways to kill you right now,” she murmured.

“Oh, well forgive me if I’m not shaking in my boots.” He grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her up, and Zara hated how she stumbled a bit, as if her body was so worn out and stiff that it wasn’t even hers anymore. “We let you sleep, magician, because that bitch of a Countess wouldn’t be happy if you looked like you hadn’t. But it’s almost time for us to head to the rendezvous site, so walk with me and don’t struggle--it’ll be easier on you that way,”

Something in Zara’s heart clenched at hearing Lord Balem speak about Nadia that way and she was overcome with rage. Seeing her reaction--lips tightened with anger, her eyes bright and her jaw set--Balem laughed.

“Oh, don’t like hearing your girlfriend called a bitch? Well don’t worry, because I won’t call her that to her face until she coughs up the agreement. Because she will,” he purred, pushing her in front of him through the messy safehouse.

She resisted the urge to correct him and say that Nadia was her  _ wife _ . “Don’t be so sure about that, Arik. I’m quite certain that Nadia is smarter than you by a rather large margin,” Zara said, smirking, and stood stock still as Lord Balem harshly pulled her to face him.

“Shut your goddamn mouth about what you think you know, magician. One more fucking word out of you, and your precious Countess will get you back  _ bruised _ ,” he hissed.

There was no one else in there to check him--everyone else on his little team must’ve been outside. There was no one to stop him from hurting her, but yet somehow Zara didn’t care. She was sick of being pushed around, of being stripped of power, and making him lose his control was the most she could do to him. “Go on then, Lord Balem. I fucking  _ dare _ you to touch me, you cowardly prick--”

The strike was sudden and filled with an almost palpable rage, and Zara stumbled from the impact but didn’t fall. Her cheek burned and stung and her lip in particular was almost hot; she reached up her bound hands and felt blood on her lip. But spite of the pain, she managed to smile, watching as his still-raised hand trembled the slightest bit. “Gotcha, Arik. Nadia’s gonna have you drawn and quartered now.”

Balem yanked her back to him, his grip bruising on her arm. “She’ll give me what I want, magician. Even if I have to kill you to do it,” he snapped.

Zara glared back at him, unhindered by any fear. “You said it yourself--I’m a magician. Death wouldn’t stop me from taking out my revenge on you.”

And then for a moment, Lord Balem almost looked afraid. 

 

* * *

 

 

_ Nadia _

When Nadia got dressed that morning, she didn’t like the person she saw in the mirror. 

She had never been shy or overly humble about her appearance--pleasant features ran in her family and she was simply a product of that. So, most mornings, she could find something to like about herself even in the aftermath of a bad night or headache or perhaps a mild sickness. But today was different. Sleep had been nigh on impossible to come by and the bed felt unbearably empty, and all she could think of was Zara. 

They’d planned everything thoroughly, staying up into the late hours of the night until both Nadia and Captain Rahmad felt satisfied with the integrity of the plan. It took Asra, Natiqa, and Portia’s combined efforts to convince Nadia that she did in fact need to go to bed, but when she finally pulled up the sheets around herself she couldn’t sleep anyway. And now, as she combed out her hair and did her usual morning rituals, she was engaged in a constant fight with her own mind to stamp out all the gruesome scenarios it conjured up about what could happen.

_ Zara is capable, strong, intelligent, and not prone to rashness. She will be fine. She  _ **_is_ ** _ fine _ .

The bedroom felt unusually empty without Zara, so empty that Nadia didn’t even to inhabit it--the space was somehow unfamiliar to her now. In stark contrast to the minimalism of her clothing or manner, Zara was messier than Nadia in most ways, which was most evident in Zara’s workspace in their quarters. Her desk was scattered with papers and books and anatomical drawings, her clothes were draped or tossed on her chair or near her vanity, her current reading material was seated precariously on her nightstand, a bookmark peeking out from surprisingly far into the book. At that, Nadia smiled--Zara was an enviably fast reader. 

Portia entered a bit earlier than usual, looking tired but admirably trying to keep up her usual peppy facade. “Morning milady. Not a good one perhaps, but it  _ is _ a morning. Did you get any sleep last night?” she asked.

Nadia shook her head. “Not really. But thank you for asking.” She glanced over and saw that Portia was carrying a silver tray topped with a modest spread of food, and smiled gratefully in spite of her sudden wash of guilt at her close friend having to do more work. “Portia, you didn’t have to bring in food, I was fully prepared to have breakfast in the dining room--”

“Actually, milady, Nazali suggested I bring you breakfast. In their professional opinion, you’re dangerously stressed out.” Portia gently placed the tray on the table adjacent to Nadia’s vanity, and Nadia cast her eyes on the various foods there: warm bread, freshly made bacon, seasonal fruit, sliced meats, and even her preferred breakfast juice.

Nadia inhaled a deep breath. “Thank you, Portia. I do appreciate it.” She hesitated, then, “Please, sit and eat with me. I. . .could use the company.”

Portia smiled warmly. “Of course, milady.”

The two of them ate in silence for a time, and Nadia didn’t miss the ways that Portia’s eyes looked at her every once in a while, heavy with worry. Finally, she piped up, her voice tentative. “I can tell that you’re worrying, milady.”

“Oh?” She hoped her voice sounded only inquiring and gently sarcastic rather than rude. “What gave it away?”

“You’re great at hiding what you feel but I think I know you pretty well at this point.” 

“So it’s that bad?”

Portia half-shrugged in sympathy. “You’re holding up well. If it was me, and someone I cared about, I don’t know what I would do.”

At that Nadia chuckled, glad to feel some humor or joy in spite of the haze she was in. “Yes, you demonstrated that quite well when your brother was imprisoned,” she said, and Portia grinned.

“Ah, yeah, well. I tend to get pretty animated when it comes to him. Mostly because he’s an idiot,” Portia sad with a roll of her eyes, though her voice was undeniably warm. 

“An intelligent and invaluable one, but yes, he quite can be.” Nadia finished the slice of bread she’d been working at. “Speaking of Dr. Devorak, have you seen him this morning?”

Portia nodded. “Yeah, before I grabbed breakfast. He and Nazali were discussing plans for when Zara gets back. I very much doubt that this Lord Balem jerk hurt her, but regardless Julian was busy bodying about like he was preparing for the end of the world. So don’t you worry: the infirmary will be ready.”

“Thank you,” Nadia replied, smiling faintly. Her breath caught in surprise when Portia clasped her hand tightly.

“You’ve got this, milady. If anyone can dress down a horrible person like Balem, it’s you. He’ll be in the dungeons before you know it,” Portia said firmly. 

Nadia nodded slowly, trying to get a handle on her rising fear. “I know. I  _ do _ . But. . .it’s so difficult not to be afraid, Portia,” she said, and she suddenly felt like a weight had been lifted from her, even more surprising because she hadn’t realized what had been weighing down her heart so much until then. She quickly wiped her eyes, praying that she wouldn’t cry. “I’m sorry--you shouldn’t have to see me in such a state.”

“Nonsense, milady. That’s nothing to be ashamed of when you haven’t seen your wife in two days. But I promise she’ll be fine.” Portia gave Nadia one last reassuring smile before picking up the half-empty tray. “Lemme go wash up real quick and I’ll be right back.”

 

Portia returned and helped with her hair, tying it into a simple high updo for functionality. Once she left, Nadia dressed in her clothes for the day: a striking outfit of black and blue, meant to intimidate, and she hadn’t had any need to wear it for years. Upon taking in her reflection, she nearly laughed at the irony--black and other dark colors were Zara’s realm, and yet here she was sporting it instead. 

Gently, almost reverently, Nadia took her sword with its scabbard down from its place on the wall. She didn’t think she would need it--that would be rather extreme, not to mention a diplomatic disaster. But she knew how to use it, and she knew that the sight of her with it tended to frighten most people. . .and she  _ definitely  _ wanted to frighten Lord Balem.

Much to her surprise, Nazali was waiting for her in the hallway, leaning against the wall opposite the bedroom door. Nadia’s eyebrows flew up in shock. 

“Sister! I was--”

They held up a hand. “Don’t, Dia, please. I just wanted to walk with you.” 

Nadia took a steadying breath and stood up a bit straighter. “I’m fine, Nazali. I just want to get this nonsense over with and bring my wife home,” she said firmly.

“Then let’s go meet Captain Rahmad and do just that,” Nazali replied, giving Nadia a reassuring smile. 

The two sisters walked in tandem to the meeting room from the evening before, where Rahmad, Nazali, and a member of the guard named Andra were waiting. Nadia turned to Andra immediately.

“Your team is in position, correct?” she asked, and she almost didn’t recognize her own voice, the ice-cold steel under the usual businesslike tone she frequently adopted. 

Andra nodded, her bright blonde bob catching the light. “Indeed, milady. They left a little less than an hour ago and should be arriving just outside the rendezvous point now. All of them understand their mission.” She looked like precisely the person for just job, just as Nadia knew she was: she wore an almost entirely black outfit consisting primarily of leather with a few bits of protective chain mail, and around her neck was a facemask waiting to be pulled up. The only indication that she was a member of the Vesuvian military was the small copper badge on her lapel with the city-state’s sigil.  

Rahmad caught Nadia’s eyes. “The city is still on lockdown, Countess--no ship has left port since yesterday afternoon, and all travelers by land are been inspected at impromptu checkpoints. Nothing should get in the way of the exchange. Shall we go? I can’t imagine that Balem will be all that cooperative if we keep him waiting.”

Nadia took a steadying breath before giving a quick, sharp nod. “Of course. The carriage and horses are waiting.”

 

Tactfully, Nazali didn’t try to force conversation on Nadia during the ride to the rendezvous point. Nadia was grateful--of all her sisters, Nazali was perhaps most receptive to other people’s needs, whether that meant being bluntly honest or providing space and silence. For most of the jostling ride, Nadia found herself staring out the window, idly fingering her wedding ring and twisting it over and over again around her finger. She could feel her anger, simmering beneath the surface, but something about it felt almost dormant--it had no reason to explode yet, but she’d never been so  _ angry _ before, so furious and so afraid and so insulted. 

And, above all, Nadia couldn’t stop worrying. She knew, logically, that they hadn’t hurt Zara--it would do nothing but stoke Nadia’s ire. But still knew it was an option, and ideas of what she would do in revenge crossed her mind like idle daydreams. What Balem had done was unforgivable, and some part of Nadia was almost overjoyed about it--it wasn’t often that she had the chance to indulge in anything as baseless and petty as a grudge, but Lord Balem was certainly worthy of one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than the others (well, maybe not in terms of word count, but it has 2 parts compared to the others' 4) but when I realized it was taking me a while to write, I figured I'd break my plan of 3 chapters and just make 4 so I could update y'all. [2008 FFN voice] LEAVE UR COMMENTS AND PLZ DON'T FLAME!


End file.
